


Soldier, Poet, King

by LemonWicky



Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, The Killustrators, The Killustrators (D&D Podcast)
Genre: -Dabs on this fluff-, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-03
Updated: 2019-04-03
Packaged: 2020-01-01 08:40:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 931
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18332552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LemonWicky/pseuds/LemonWicky
Summary: A warm spring day and a loving family.





	Soldier, Poet, King

**Author's Note:**

> Go listen to the Killustrators, are you listening to the Killustrators, why haven't you listened to the Killustrators?

The sun warmed the land over the marshland, a rare time when the sun chased away the chill and the gloom. Birds, deer, and small mammals scurried about with as much eagerness as the more humanlike creatures who share their home.  The time was right for spring to come along and although the land had been drowning in seasonal rain, this sunlight brought a reprieve that all living beings took advantage of.

Next to me, my husband carried the picnic basket in his hand, swinging it in time with our son as we swung him into the air. His innocent giggles made a bloom of joy in my heart. “Higher! Higher!” He squealed and my husband laughed.

“No, you might hurt yourself, kiddo! Then we’d have to go home!” My son gasped and planted his feet firmly on the ground, determined to keep himself from harm. Another laugh and my husband said, “Why don’t you go set up the blanket, kiddo?” He was feeling around for said object in the basket and when he had ahold of it, he presented it to our son and the boy nodded, rushing ahead.

“Precious, be careful.” I say as he goes and my husband takes my hand in his.

“He’ll be fine.” He says, pressing a kiss to my lips and I press back. Overhead, my ravens follow closely, their cries being obvious. “We’ve got the best babysitters…if only they’re too feathery.” He chuckles and wet plopping sound is heard just behind him.

I look past the lute on his back and see a suspicious white spot on the ground and look up to the ravens and shake my head. “Not to mention divas!” He calls up to them and I giggle.

“Mom, Dad!” I hear our son call from ahead and I turn to look to see him sitting on the blanket, waiting for us. “I did it! See! I did it!”

“Great job, kiddo!” My husband says and rushes up to meet our son and after setting the basket and his lute down, tackles him into a hug. This rustles up the blanket in the process but my heart is too light to care. We settle next to a willow tree atop a hill overlooking the marshes and though his long branches cover our view, he also protects us from prying eyes and the ravens are our sentries.

We begin to set out our small feast, most of it for my darling husband and precious son. Pastries of sweet and savory make, waterskins and a wineskin, cheeses and vegetables…I only nibble at the cheese and sip at the wine, watching my husband fool our son into eating a bit of green at the end of his fork. I laugh and giggle, happiness sheltered by the willow whom guards us.

Soon after the food has gone and the wine is gone, my picks up his lute and begins strumming it. “Do you have a wish for a song, Precious?” I ask my son and he nods, his face smeared with jam.

“The one with the king!” I quirk an eyebrow as I reach out with a handkerchief and wipe at the mess.

“There are several with a king, Precious.”

“With the poet and the soldier too!” He grumbles, trying to escape from my hand. I draw it back with a laugh and a look to my husband. He nods and starts playing the tune while my son sits and eagerly watches me. I draw a breath and begin.

_There will come a soldier_

_Who carries a mighty sword_

_He will tear your city down, o lei o lai o lord_

_O lei, o lai, o lei, o lord_

_He will tear your city down, o lei o lai o lord_

Our son starts to sing with me, his voice cracking and slightly off tune but not unwelcomed in the slightest.

_There will come a poet_

_Whose weapon is his word_

_He will slay you with his tongue, o lei o lai o lord_

_O lei, o lai, o lei, o lord_

_He will slay you with his tongue, o lei o lai o lord_

_There will come a ruler_

_Whose brow is laid in thorn_

_Smeared with oil like David's boy, o lei o lai o lord_

_O lei, o lai, o lei, o lord_

_Smeared with oil like David's boy, o lei o lai o lord_

_O lei, o lai, o lei, o lord_

_He will tear your city down, o lei o lai_

He giggles as the song ends and rushes into my arms. I hold him close and pet his soft sable hair. “More, Mom! More!” He says and I am unable to resist. His eyes are shining brightly and his smile is too filled with joy to say no. I press a kiss to his head and we continue to sing songs and make merry until the sun is on his way to slumber. By this time, our son snoring softly in my husband’s arms and I carry the lute and the basket. Our sides bump into each other occasionally and I look at him. He stares back and I can feel our love. “I love you, Morrigan.” He whispers and I laugh softly.

“And I love you, Ernest.” I say, kissing him.

“Wuv you too…” Our son’s soft voice carries to us and my husband laughs.

“Love you, Oswalt.” He presses a kiss to our son’s head and I follow suit.

Overhead, my ravens watch us on our journey back home and I feel at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> The Oh Hellos' 'Soldier, Poet, King' and 'Thus Always To Tyrants' and 'For The Dancing and The Dreaming' from How To Train Your Dragon 2 are basically the only three songs I listened to while listening to this, whoops.


End file.
